


and my heart goes boom, boom, boom

by ratafia



Series: Kinktober 2019 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Inspired by Music, Knotting, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 12:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratafia/pseuds/ratafia
Summary: You're walking around my apartmentOnly in underwearI understand that it's summerAnd it's hot but have mercy on meYou're torturing meAnd soon I will howlBut you're not hearing meAnd keep walking around.





	and my heart goes boom, boom, boom

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the first day of Kinktober - Orgasm control/denial.  
Song lyrics used are Miss Li - My Heart Goes Boom.  
Song lyrics used in summary are the translation from Russian by me to the song Звери - Квартирка which was another major inspiration for this piece. And yes, it is really about what it seems to be about. :D

"And my heart goes boom boom boom..."  
The peppy female voice sang through the headphones.  
"And my heart goes boom boom boom..."  
The rhythmic whisper of dry lips echoed it.  
For anyone else, neither would even be audible. But Derek Hale was a werewolf with superior senses that were currently under the merciless assault from his fiercest adversary...  
"Stiles!"  
As his shout cut through the music, a young man listening to it scrambled, hurrying to turn it off.  
"What? Jesus, is somebody attacking us? Ask them to wait, would you, it's way too hot as it is."  
And with those careless words, the man turned the music back on. Not even listening to a reply to his questions or wondering why he was called...  
He simply returned right back to his task--cutting fruits for the salad--and the music went back on.  
As did the whisper.  
It was only half the problem if even that. All in all, Derek was quite used to constant noise the human produced seemingly 24/7 and had adjusted to ignore it most of the time. He didn't particularly want to admit it, but he had started enjoying that noise. It meant he wasn't alone, that there was somebody there, better still that somebody was Stiles...  
So, fine, the music could stay. Derek could live with off-tone singing that came along with it.  
The real problem was the dancing.  
It was strange and distracting and messy, just like Stiles himself.  
He flung his long limbs around with his ever-present brimming energy, moving to the beat of the song... Wearing only underwear.  
To his credit, he had reasons. Yes, there were reasons for all of this, Derek reminded himself.  
Firstly, there was an unusually brutal heatwave that had lasted all week with the sun trying to reduce them all to the pathetic people-shaped jelly.  
Secondly, the aforementioned heat wave had blown out half the city's electrical network.  
Including Stiles' home.  
Which led to him escaping with his life to places more chilly than a stifling house with no power.  
Like Derek's loft, equipped with generators and thus immune to the whims of the sun.  
And so, thirdly, there was functioning AC in Derek's house, so of course, Stiles was there also.  
In underwear. Not even his own underwear, but Derek's.  
Which was due to the fourth reason - them having casual sex for about half a year now. And they’d just finished a rather engaging session.  
"Cus when I'm with you baby  
my whole world starts to bloom  
All I ever want to do  
Is to lay here next to you..."  
Stiles sang.  
His hips moved, slightly too big briefs sliding just a little bit lower with it.  
He turned, reaching for the bowls or something from the upper shelf.  
Doing so revealed his back to Derek’s gaze, all the expanse of creamy skin matted with moles... and lovebites. Fresh, still burning bright. If he focused, Derek could even see the indentations from his own teeth in one especially deep mark on the lower back.  
Even with the air conditioning blasting in full, it was stuffy.  
And not that long ago they’d been engaged in strenuous activity...  
Stiles' skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, a lonely drop sliding down just past that bite mark, and lower, getting lost in the waistband of the briefs. The sunbeams falling through the tall windows highlighted that single drop of liquid, the very literal last drop that overflowed the last barriers of Derek's self-control that still held.  
The next moment he was across the loft, the book he was trying to read long forgotten.  
Not when his hands had a so much more interesting object to hold.  
Not when his eyes had a so much more enticing sight to behold.  
Stiles squeaked, momentarily tense, as Derek grabbed him in a tight hug, dislodging one of the dynamics from his ear.  
"And my heart goes boom boom boom..."  
The music went on and on, jaunty tune and fast-paced rhythm going faster still closer to the climax of the song.  
Guitar riffs bounced in a tiny echo with the lyrics, but nobody was listening anymore.  
Derek was way too busy dragging his prey to the bed with a possessive growl.  
Stiles, in turn, was rather enthusiastic prey, smiling and moaning as he was swept off his feet and a new lovebite was left on his shoulder.  
Soon though, he was moaning for a different reason.  
"Please, Der, come on, please, please..."  
Lips that had recited lyrics just a little while ago now dropped pleas.  
Breathless and groaning, half-moans, half-words, some lost entirely to those needy little whimpers Derek loved so much.  
And he was determined to hear them all today. As much as he liked.  
It was only fair, after all, he asked for just an hour of silence and peace.  
Instead, he got Stiles dancing practically naked, all slathered in their mingled scents, smelling just like...  
Just the thought of it drew another growl from his throat, which in turn brought another moan from Stiles.  
No wonder, with that throat being wrapped around Stiles' cock.  
"Der..."  
Derek withdrew for a moment, licking his lips and taking a breath before uttering a single word and diving right back down.  
"No."  
He sucked and licked and kissed, drowning in the overwhelming scent of Stiles' pleasure and the moans that steadily turned to whines.  
But Derek just ignored them all, all the begging to let go, to let him come.  
He asked for silence before.  
It was only fair.  
That what he kept telling himself as he finally released Stiles' cock placing one last kiss atop the head.  
The human above him moaned encouragingly, clearly expecting the end of his suffering... Only to swear when Derek simply moved lower, tongue lapping at the slick-weeping hole still relaxed from their recent lovemaking.  
It was intoxicating, the scent, the taste, every little thing about Stiles seem to be designed to drive Derek absolutely insane with desire.  
So he flicked his tongue, fucking into his omega with abandon...  
No. Not his. Just an omega.  
Stiles wasn't his, no matter what they did in bed.  
It was just fun. Blowing off steam with someone he trusted.  
Stiles wasn't his.  
The words banged around his head, insistent and intrusive. Annoying.  
Hurtful.  
He wanted to get rid of them.  
He wanted to...  
_Mate, mate, mate_ \- sang his instincts, urging him to claim, to take what he wanted so much.  
Instead, he sat up on the bed, his hands shaking with barely restrained strength so as not to injure the frail human under him when he adjusted his position.  
Closer.  
Higher.  
So it's easy to thrust into the wet heat with one push, sinking in, nearly melting at the grip of Stiles' body.  
Stiles, who just trembled and moaned even louder, allowing him in so easily.  
Urging him in, those infernal hips still moving, meeting his thrusts.  
Spine bowed and head thrown back in an unmistakable thrill.  
And his scent...  
Acceptance.  
Joy.  
Impatience.  
Not a hint of doubt, not a moment of insincerity.  
It was Derek's turn to moan, low and helpless because he was so over his head.  
Lost, totally lost, totally in love.  
Now and forever.  
That was all he could take, with one final broken cry he stilled, as deep as he could go, as close as he could get.  
His knot swelled, locking them together, and teeth elongating without his control, throbbing with intense desire to bite, to mark.  
He bit down his own lip instead, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth barely noticeable through the wall of Stiles around him, on him, probably in him.  
He was whining weakly, tugging at Derek's hair, saying something that was lost in his choked off moan.  
"No."  
He repeated.  
More to himself than Stiles, truly, just a reminder.  
There were things he wasn't allowed, things that weren't his to take, to ask.  
He could do other things, though.  
Like fuck Stiles even through his own muscles cramping in the waves of ecstasy, even through his head swimming with a dizzying mix of pleasure and Stiles' scent.  
Yes, he could do that.  
He could just keep going, little circles pushing, tugging at his knot and teasing it just that smidge inside Stiles, enough to torture him just a little bit more.  
It's not like Stiles was even truly protesting, he may have been begging as much as he could through labored breath...  
But he didn't say his safe word.  
And he kept moving.  
His palms may have been trying to scratch at Derek's shoulders, but his legs were hugging him as tight as ever. Not letting him go.  
There was so little movement allowed with them joined like this, almost none, but as Derek was making it work for all he was worth, so was Stiles.  
Still meeting him at every turn, practically rubbing himself off of him, like a cat, all pleas and tiny fucked out sobs.  
And yet he demanded more.  
Derek sneaked a palm between them, gripping Stiles' cock and giving him a firm stroke.  
Stiles screamed, Derek's name bouncing off the walls, bouncing in Derek's ears, in his heart.  
And _still_, he didn't withdraw.  
No, he clung to Derek with all his might, as if trying to crawl into him, to get some reprieve that way, his ass clenching so hard it almost hurt.  
Derek needed more.  
It was Stiles, and he could never get enough.  
But his control was slipping, and he couldn't allow himself to do something stupid.  
Nothing stupider, anyway.  
So he rolled them in a practiced push, the movement jostling their connection, tugging, the almost-hurt burning with bright bliss.  
So Stiles was now a quivering mess atop him, barely holding himself up on his elbows, still clinging to Derek for dear life.  
Still moving, as if he wasn't even aware of it.  
Still trying to get off, to fuck himself on Derek's knot, as if that would help with the tight ring nestled at the base of his cock.  
"Der... Please... Please, let me come, I can't... Too much, please, please..." - hot drops fell on Derek's face, sliding down Stiles' flushed cheeks.  
He was crying, overstimulation getting the better of him, even as he kept squirming in the alpha's lap, insistent, desperate.  
Salty.  
Sweet.  
Heady.  
Everything twisted and mixed into one, everything in Derek's world revolving around Stiles and Stiles alone.  
He watched with bated breath as Stiles' teary face fell for just a moment, brows furrowing, lips twisting in another anguished keen as Derek denied him yet again, instead tracing his fingertips along the stretched out rim through the slick and cum.  
Hazy amber eyes found him, a wordless wish written so clear in that gaze.  
It wasn't fair, it wasn't just.  
He couldn't resist those eyes for long. He never could.  
Stiles' low, filthy moan filled the air as Derek released the ring.  
He held his precious human in his arms, rubbing gently soothing circles in his damp hair.  
He held him through each trembling wave of orgasm, and the aftershocks and the tired, little shakes after that.  
Unable to let go, wanting to meld into one being and never part, just so that moment of quiet unity never ends.  
"I want to be your mate."  
Derek cursed himself and his overeager tongue running away from him, as Stiles practically shot upright, wincing at the pull of his overextended body.  
Those amber eyes just recently totally glazed over were now alert, staring him down with shock, intent, and piercing.  
"What?"  
He couldn't read that tone at all. It was that "I'm in charge here"-tone of the Emissar Stilinski, the one that Derek was secretly scared shitless off.  
Especially now, when he had gone and spilled all his carefully hidden secrets, laid bare with his heart and soul so carelessly open and vulnerable. He might as well go all the way now, right? There was nothing to lose, he could at least say it, just once, before it all ended...  
"I want to be your mate... Wanted to, for a very long time now. You are... perfect, Stiles."  
Silence.  
Derek was aware of the AC running above them, it's chilly air suddenly so noticeable on his clammy with terror naked skin.  
As Stiles examined him with critical eyes, as if thinking over all the ways he could kill Derek, he just lay there, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable agony that would come with his denial...  
"And here I thought I'll have to wait another year at least. Just not today, okay? I'm tired."  
...that never came.  
Wait...  
"What?"  
Clearly, Derek's dumbstruck expression was funny enough for Stiles to giggle--rather adorably at that--before taking mercy and kissing him softly, so different from the frenzy of their fucking just a little while ago.  
No, this was...  
Soft.  
Unhurried.  
Sweet, as a waft of summer breeze, just like...  
Love.  
"I want to be your mate too, Derek."


End file.
